


some like it hot

by Bluebluebaby



Category: Dead To Me (TV)
Genre: F/F, Happy Halloween, I think it's worth it, all's well that ends well (with jen and judy strap-on sex), eventual jen/judy but at what cost, i just think lorna being mean to me recreationally could be fun, judy's praise kink is pretty much canon at this point right, listen lorna is weirdly hot and i think it's nice to change things up, oh lordy, skip to chapter 3 if you just want the j/j bits!, welcome to hell - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebluebaby/pseuds/Bluebluebaby
Summary: "“She’s never going to give you what you want.”Judy jumps at the closeness of Lorna’s voice to her ear, oblivious to her presence what with her present pining staring.They’re having a picnic, to celebrate, well, Judy’s not quite sure but Lorna insisted, and Jen is bandaging Henry’s knee after a tumble on the playground, and Judy might have like, a thing, for Jen in maternal-mode.She could probably sell the argument that the wistfulness is about her own losses, but Lorna looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, so Judy opts for ignorance.“Who?”“Jennifer,” Lorna waves a hand dismissively. “I know she seems like a friend-of-Ellen, and god knows I warned my Ted about that, frigid as she was, but she’s relentlessly heterosexual. I’d know if it were otherwise.”Judy chokes, but manages not to pass out.“It’s not- I’m not-”“Of course you aren’t, dear.” Lorna smiles, in the practiced, humorless way of PTA presidents and church ladies.  “But for what it’s worth, I’m much more open-minded. You are, after all, very pretty.”(or: Lordy smut with a jen/judy denouement.)
Relationships: Judy Hale/Jen Harding, Judy Hale/Lorna Harding
Comments: 66
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> only god can judge me, and i'm an atheist!!!!

“She’s never going to give you what you want.” 

Judy jumps at the closeness of Lorna’s voice to her ear, oblivious to her presence what with her present pining staring. 

They’re having a picnic, to celebrate, well, Judy’s not quite sure but Lorna insisted, and Jen is bandaging Henry’s knee after a tumble on the playground, and Judy might have like, a _thing_ , for Jen in maternal-mode. 

She could probably sell the argument that the wistfulness is about her own losses, but Lorna looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, so Judy opts for ignorance.

“Who?”

“Jennifer,” Lorna waves a hand dismissively. “I know she _seems_ like a friend-of-Ellen, and god knows I warned my Ted about that, frigid as she was, but she’s relentlessly heterosexual. I’d know if it were otherwise.” 

Judy chokes, but manages not to pass out. 

“It’s not- I’m not-”

“Of course you aren’t, dear.” Lorna smiles, in the practiced, humorless way of PTA presidents and church ladies. “But for what it’s worth, _I’m_ much more open-minded. You are, after all, very pretty.” 

She slips Judy her business card (as if Judy doesn’t already have her number, granted it’s for _emergencies_ , but still), and walks away, off to dote on her grandchildren, and thereby make Jen feel guilty about her own parenting again. 

It’s not like Judy’s going to _call_ her. She’s- that would just be like, the _worst_ betrayal of Jen, and anyway, Judy’s not _that_ hard up. She’s totally gone without sex for long periods of ime before without making any rash, potentially life-ruining decisions. 

_ 

Judy _doesn’t_ call Lorna.

(She texts.) 

It’s been like, an absolutely _awful_ week, and yeah, maybe Jen’s right that she’s fucking desperate for attention but Jen has also called her “clingy,” “hovery,” and “fucking everywhere all the fucking time, dammit!” so tensions are running high all around. 

She’s had the better part of a bottle of wine alone in the guest house, trying to give Jen the space she insists she wants, and her mind wanders to Lorna’s offer.

It’s a bad idea. 

Like, magnitudes worse than fucking Perez’s ex. 

But Lorna is also, well, weirdly hot, and _interested_. 

(She may pull off aloof confidence but Judy’s still felt her eyes on her ass enough times to know there was weight behind her words.) 

**So… how would this work, exactly?**

She finishes off the bottle waiting for an answer, and then, unnecessarily clarifies:

**It’s Judy, btw.**

**(Jen’s Judy. )**

She’s just about to fall asleep and chalk it up to a wrong number in the morning when her phone pings in response.

_Judith, I’m not going to explain how two women have sex. Don’t you have the internet?\ Jennifer deprives the boys of so many modern necessities but I know there’s at least a wi-fi router in that house._

Then: 

_Jen’s Judy, hmmm? No. I think you’re mine now, aren’t you?_

And fuck, this, is, um, going to _work_ for Judy. 

(She might go to hell for it, but…)

Lorna doesn’t like to beat around the bush, and honestly? Neither does Judy. 

(It’s kind of refreshing, the utter absence of cautious flirtation.)

**When and where did you want to meet?**

_Tomorrow. My office. Make it work with your lunch break._

Just like that, huh. 

_Wear something that shows off your figure._

Yeah, Judy was definitely right about the ass-staring. 

_

Lorna ushers Judy into her office, locking the door behind her. Her hand is feather light on Judy’s elbow, but she moves where she’s led as if pulled by a string.

(Judy’s pretty sure the mug on Lorna’s desk is filled with vodka. That’s… fine.)

“I would offer you a seat, but I don’t want to.” 

Judy giggles, nervous (but not afraid). 

“Put down your bag, let me get a good look at you.” 

Judy drops her purse gently on the floor, holds her head high as Lorna moves in closer, cups her jaw with her hand. 

Her skin is warmer than Judy had expected (given all of Jen’s vampire jokes), soft and faintly scented with what Judy can only describe as wealth. 

Lorna spins her around by the shoulders slowly, humming in the back of her throat, and Judy doesn’t know if her stomach is dropping more from the fear of being found wanting, or the guilt of standing here in the first place. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Lorna sighs happily, “you’ll do _nicely._ ”

Judy blushes, more at the feeling of her body so strongly responding to the low drop of Lorna’s voice than the words themselves.

“Thanks?”

“Facts aren’t compliments, Judith, and you should accept them with more grace, anyhow.” 

“My name’s actually just Judy-”

Lorna chuckles, and it’s more than a little cruel.

(And Judy’s more than a little wet.)

“If you care more about me getting your name right than making you come until your eyes crossed, you know where the door is.” 

)Judy doesn’t move.)

“That’s what I thought. Good girl.” 

(Oh, _shit._ )

It shows all over her face, in the way her knees buckle ever so slightly (Judy still thinks she does an admirable job not tottering over in her pumps and pencil skirt, given how difficult standing at all is right now). 

“ _Wow,_ ” Lorna whistles, “I knew you wanted it but I didn’t realize you were so _desperate._ Good for you, coming to your senses, to someone who can _actually_ take care of you.” 

It’s pretty obvious Lorna is taking as much pleasure at one-upping Jen as she is at the body before her (although the confidence in the way she cups Judy’s breasts over her shirt suggests this is still a favorite hobby of hers, competition with her daughter-in-law or not). 

“What do you want me to do?” 

Judy’s used to going after what she wants in the bedroom, in using actions instead of words more often than not, but she’s not calling the shots here, and she knows it.

(In fact, she loves it.)

If she thinks too much about it, she’ll hate herself, so she focuses on what she can feel: the hardness of her nipples against the satin of her bra, the heat in the pit of her belly, the pounding of her heart in her throat. 

“Take off your clothes.” 

Judy starts by kicking her shoes off, but Lorna stops her.

“Those stay on.” 

Lorna gives Judy what can best be described as a villain monologue as she carefully unbuttons and folds her skirt and blouse, until all she’s wearing is her bra and underwear (and 4-inch heels). 

“I’m a _closer_ , Judith. I take great pride in my successes. I work _very_ hard for the things I have. I think I deserve a nice thing, every now and then, don’t you? For all my hard work?” 

Judy nods, her chest already flushing. 

(She wills her arms not to cross in front of her. Judy may feel many things about her choices, but _shame_ is not one of them.) 

“Jennifer did well finding you,” Lorna grins, wolfish (Judy’s okay with being a lamb, _honest_ ), “shame she couldn’t seal the deal. But that’s usually where I come in. I have the _touch,_ you see.” 

She demonstrates by dragging a single finger down the line of Judy’s neck, between her breasts, across her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake, before stepping back and admiring her handiwork. 

Judy controls her breathing, conscious of her posture, still wanting to make a good fucking impression on a woman who can most generously be described as overly-medicated. 

Lorna sits back in the fancy office chair that probably costs more than any car Judy has ever known and kicks her heels up on the table. 

Judy raises an eyebrow in question. 

“God, I thought you were smarter than that. Touch yourself for me- I had a late night, I need to relax.” 

It occurs to Judy, suddenly, just how much transparent glass surrounds them, and Lorna must notice the fear in her eyes, when she rolls her own. 

“I’m the only one here, but I think we both know you’d _like_ to get caught, so don’t pretend like that’s stopping you.” 

Judy’s hand moves to cup her own breast, fingers slipping beneath the fabric to pinch and twist at her nipple. 

Lorna’s eyes widen slightly, but her voice is as flat as ever, as she narrates Judy’s performance. 

“Oh, you’re a pretty girl aren’t you, always putting on a show. How long have you been trying to make me see how much you need to be fucked, hmmm?” 

Judy’s right hand slips beneath the waistband of her underwear, and she moans at the feeling of how fucking wet she is. 

“You’re loud, too, aren’t you? Does Jennifer hear you when you touch yourself? Does she know what a little slut you are?”

Judy’s never really had a problem getting off; now she’s going to have a problem not getting off. 

(It’s humiliating, but only enough to make the issue at hand, as it were, more difficult.)

“Oh, you poor thing, I can’t have you falling over, come here.” 

Lorna beckons her walk around to the other side of the desk, between her legs, propping herself up against the hard, cold surface. 

(Judy fees like a fly in a black widow’s web.)

“Now, where were we- right, you were fucking yourself and getting off on me telling you what a fine job if it you’re doing, is that correct?” 

There’s a wicked mirth in Lorna’s voice, a rhetorical question she’s still insistently demanding an answer to. 

“That’s right,” Judy manages, her voice barely audible over the sound of her fingers moving against herself. 

She’s getting close, and Lorna narrows her eyes, at the louder gasps and more frenzied hip thrusts. 

“Now Judith, you’re not so naive as to think you can just come whenever you want to, are you?” 

(God, Lorna fucking _would._ )

“Oh, please,” Judy whines, pressing her fingers harder against her clit. 

“I don’t think you’ve earned the satisfaction,” Lorna tsks, tapping her manicured nails against the arm of her chair. “You certainly haven’t made a very polite ask of me.” 

“God, Lorna, please, I’m so fucking close, you’re making me so close, please, please, can I come for you?” 

(The burn of humiliation at begging like this makes it that much harder to hold off. Judy’s proud that she does though, no one else certainly is.) 

“Gosh, I hope you’ve brought a change of underwear. Those are ruined, but I guess you could just do without, think of me watching you whenever you feel a breeze. You’ll have to let me get a better view of you next time, but fine, go ahead and come, if you must.” 

The edge of idle disdain in her voice removes any choice Judy had in the matter(it would be great if her insurance covered psychotherapy, that would probably significantly help her life choices), and she gasps and cries out as she comes. 

Lorna watches her with quiet focus, no external indication of any physical response on her part. 

When Judy removes her hand from her underwear, Lorna looks pointedly from her glistening fingers to her mouth, the command more than implied. 

Judy closes her eyes and licks herself clean, her skin burning from the heat of Lorna’s voice. 

“I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, Judith, don’t you?” 

Well that answers one of her questions: this is clearly not a one-off random midday masturbation party. She decides she’s earned the right to ask the other. 

“Can I make you come?” 

Lorna laughs as if she’s made the funniest joke in the world. 

“Oh, sweetie, I’m on so many SSRIs I couldn’t have an orgasm if I was riding a jackhammer in an earthquake, but you’ve done plenty for me. Today, at least.”

“Right, um, well, thank you for the opportunity.” 

Judy knows she sounds over-eager, but she also knows that Lorna likes it, and it’s nice to have someone _appreciate_ her desire to please, for once, 

Lorna holds out her hand, and it takes a moment for Judy to realize she’s asking for her underwear. She slides it down her ankles, puts her skirt and shirt back on (after putting her prison-escapee breasts back in the confines of their bra), heels on all the while, and lightly places the scrap of fabric in Lorna’s hand before grabbing her purse. 

“I should get back to work.” 

“Don’t call me— I’ll call you,” Lorna singsongs over her shoulder, already flipping through listings, absentmindedly twirling Judy’s panties around a finger. 

_

She’s only fifteen minutes late back to work, which, all things considered, is impressive. When she gets home that evening, Jen comments that she must have had a good day, she’s practically walking on clouds, and Judy tries not to cross her legs at the feeling of the air conditioning against her bare skin. 

She manages to hold it together through dinner, asking enough questions to the boys about their days that no one suspects her of being a dysfunctional deviant, before calling it an early night around nine. 

She gets another message from Lorna as she steps out of the shower. 

_I don’t like being patient when I want something. Come for dinner tomorrow night._

Judy’s about to attempt a reschedule, ask for a larger window of time, before the follow up chimes in:

_Bring lube._

So instead, she has her second and third orgasm of the day thinking about all the ways in which Lorna could want her slick and ready. 

Each climax is followed by a wave of guilt, and Judy thinks that when it comes to Lorna, Christina Aguilera really said it best: her mind is saying let's go, but her heart is saying no. 

The thing is, listening to her heart has really fucked Judy over lately. She could use some new ways of getting screwed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> judy sees lorna again... things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK 
> 
> (i swear the next part will have jen/judy; again, that may not be worth all of this to you lmao)

Jen raises an eyebrow when Judy tells her she won’t be home for dinner, but she doesn’t complain (it doesn’t hurt that Judy has backup meals in the freezer— there’s even a couple meat options she’d prepared specifically on the chance she might be gone). In fact, she goes so far as to tell Judy, “good for you, getting back out there. They’re a lucky person, your date tonight,” when she sees her off that morning. 

(Judy doesn’t have the heart to correct her, and well, Judy wouldn’t say that Lorna is  _ unlucky, _ even if she’s not a  _ date _ , per se. )

Jen’s eyes look a little sad, even if her voice is bright, and it makes a pang of guilt tug at Judy’s chest. 

(It makes her stomach clench too, though, the thought that Jen might miss her, while she’s doing, well, _ Lorna _ , tonight.) 

“Will you be home in time to read the next chapter of our book?” Henry asks, puppy eyes on full display. 

“I’m not sure- maybe your mom can take over for me tonight, and you can recap me tomorrow, yeah?” 

Jen smiles thinly, reassuring Henry that it’s just tonight, that Judy’s not like,  _ actually _ leaving them, and Judy sits in her car for 10 minutes thinking about turning around before driving to Lorna’s. 

Lorna answers the door in a pencil skirt and blazer (Judy had half been expecting a silk robe and kitten heels, to tell the truth), looking Judy up and down and pursing her lips. 

(Judy can’t tell if she comes up short, but she suspects that if she had she would already be back on her way home. )

“I hope you’re not hungry,” Lorna leads her through the house, upstairs to the bedroom, turning around to survey her once they’ve reached their destination. While Lorna’s ground floor is filled with photos of Ted and her grandsons, her bedroom is all  _ her— _ literally. A giant black-and-white portrait of Lorna covers the feature wall (Judy thinks it might be an Annie Liebowitz, which would track with the whole casually racist rich white lady bullshit). The bed is big and luxurious (Judy knows she’ll never sleep in it, but  _ still _ ), and on the sole shelf, in stark contrast to the grey scale of the room, is a colorful display of what appear to be artisanal glass dildos. 

Lorna’s voice brings Judy out of her trance. 

“I have no intention of actually eating dinner, I just thought it might be nice to inconvenience Jennifer.” 

She really is a horrible woman. Judy hates that the malice in her voice makes her nipples hard.

“I had a snack earlier. Figured I might need the energy.” 

Lorna chuckles, and lets her gaze linger on Judy’s chest, where the absence of a bra is now imminently evident. 

“Well you’re certainly…  _ eager _ , aren’t you?”

“What can I say, you made an impression.” Judy keeps the slightest edge of defiance in her tone, as if this can be a small way of defending Jen’s honor, her insolence. 

(It isn’t, it’s just one more wall for Lorna to knock down, they both fucking know that.) 

“Hmmm, well, I’m still waiting for  _ you _ to impress  _ me _ . Take it off,” she gestures to Judy’s dress, “All of it.” 

Judy does as she’s told, as disinterested in pleasantries as Lorna. 

Lorna steps close enough that Judy can smell her perfume, and underneath, _ her _ , and her body responds, nipples tightening even further, hair on the nape of her neck at attention. 

Lorna laughs scornfully while cupping her breasts, teasing her with ghosting touches across her stomach as Judy fights back an audible response. 

“You know, I usually like a bit more of a challenge, Judith, but I think I actually appreciate how _ easy _ you are.” 

Judy says nothing; it’s true and they both know it. 

She adds intensity to her touches, pinching and twisting Judy’s nipples. 

“Even so, I bet most of them don’t give you what you  _ need _ , do they?”

Judy looks away, but pushes her breasts harder into Lorna’s hands, silently begging her to continue. 

Lorna moves away, though, sitting on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed. 

“Come here, Judith,” Lorna crooks a finger, guiding Judy by the waist to straddle her lap, knees on the bed. 

Lorna rubs her thumbs along the sensitive skin along Judy’s iliac crest, licking her lips when Judy bucks towards her hand, seeking more contact. 

“Ah, ah, ah, you haven’t earned it yet,” she tsks. 

“Please, Lorna, will you touch me?” 

Lorna arches a brow, clearly dissatisfied with the vagueness of Judy’s response. 

“Touch you  _ where _ , Judith?”

“Please, touch my pussy, I— I need you.” 

(In the moment it’s true— she needs nothing else.) 

Lorna obliges, sliding her middle finger through Judy’s wetness before sinking into her, to the knuckle. 

“Have you been this ready for me all day, Judith? Making Jennifer coffee and thinking about me fucking your pretty little cunt later?” 

Judy bears down, her body begging for more. 

“God, is this _ all _ about Jen? You’re kind of pathological, huh?” 

Lorna hooks her finger back towards herself, eliciting a gasp from Judy.

“You’re dripping, dear. Those who throw stones shouldn’t live in guest houses.” 

Lorna moves her finger with slow, relentless pressure, drawing Judy out from within herself, almost. The one is almost enough to finish the job, but she adds another, scissoring them within Judy and stretching her for the hell of it. 

She’s careful not to let her palm or thumb brush Judy’s clit, and judging by the wicked gleam in her eyes when Judy attempts to grind against her, it’s an intentional omission. 

“Are you having a nice time, Judith?”

“Mhmmm,” Judy hums, feeling the pinprick of sweat on her forehead, the unbearable slickness against her thighs growing with each movement of Lorna’s fingers. 

“It doesn’t sound like it. Tell me what you’re enjoying.” 

“I like feeling your fingers inside me, feeling your eyes on me, knowing I’m putting on a show for you,” Judy gasps, feeling the pressure building low in her belly. 

Oh, fuck. 

She can- if she can just rub her clit, maybe she can come before she makes a mess of things, it’ll be worth whatever punishment Lorna deems fit…. 

Judy reaches down with her own hand to add some friction, but before she can even make contact with her clit, Lorna’s hand is around her wrist, a warning in her eye. 

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself?” 

“No, but—”

“Judith, we’ve discussed this. I know what you need, and I’m going to give it to you. Wait your  _ fucking _ turn.” 

Judy nods, and giving in to her fate, rocks against Lorna’s hand harder, exaggerating the bounce of her tits, throwing back her head and exposing her neck for Lorna’s other hand to lightly grasp before pinching her nipples again. 

Judy feels herself squeezing around Lorna’s fingers, the ache deep within her, every part of her swollen and hot, and Lorna continues to twist the knife. 

“Oh, Judith, you’re so tight around my fingers your cunt must have been positively begging to be fucked— it’s a good thing I made my offer when I did, isn’t it? Who could’ve known what would’ve happened otherwise.” 

Judy feels it start, the unstoppable wellspring, and her whole body reddens with shame as Lorna continues to talk. 

“Of course, I hadn’t pegged you for a squirter, but, well, nobody’s perfect.” 

That does it— the disappointment in Lorna’s voice coupled with the firm pressure of her fingers pushes Judy over the crest, tears pinpricking the corners of her eyes as every cell in her body contributes to the orgasm. She hears herself splashing against Lorna’s wrist and skirt, can’t bear to look at it, only close her eyes and ride it out until it’s over. 

Lorna pulls her fingers out suddenly, clicking her tongue to the back of her teeth as she examines them. 

“Judith… this is a very nice skirt and you’ve ruined it.” 

“You made me—”

“Please,” Lorna sighs, “No one can make you do anything you don’t want to do. That was  _ all  _ you. How are you going to make up for it?” 

“I can get it drycleaned—” Judy starts, before Lorna stops her with a (still wet) finger on her mouth. 

“I prefer quicker methods. Why don’t you lie over my knee, hmmm?” 

(It’s not surprising at all, really, that Lorna would want to spank her. Judy still feels a throb between her legs, an aching reminder that her clit has been woefully neglected.) 

She assumes the position, and Lorna caresses the curve of her ass as she monologizes, in typical villain fashion. 

“I’ll give you the benefit of assuming that was an honest mistake, Judith, and go easy on you today. How’s ten?” 

(Honestly, Judy deserves a thousand for her crimes, ten is nothing, but she hums her assent anyhow.) 

Lorna’s spanks are quick and stinging (of course she fucking knows what she’s doing, Judy’s not dumb enough to think she’s the first inappropriately younger woman she’s had in this position), and with every strike Judy feels more blood rushing to her center, the pain blending deliciously into pleasure. 

She counts aloud, Lorna giving her just enough time for the burn to begin to abate before striking her again. She feels a jolt through her body at every strike, a direct connection from the sore skin of her ass to her clit. 

It’s over quicker than she wants it to be, but Judy’s not about to beg for more, not yet. 

Lorna doesn’t try to move Judy off her though, Judy hears the sound of a bottle being squeezed, Lorna’s hands rubbing together. 

She feels a cooling comfort on her skin as Lorna soothes the reddened marks her hands have left. 

“You like being good for me, don’t you?” 

It’s a marvel, how Lorna’s voice is simultaneously soothing and deadly. 

“Yes,” Judy admits into the blanket below her, hiding her blush. 

“Well, much as Jennifer would have you believe, I’m not entirely heartless. If I punish you, I’ll make it all better.” 

Her hands are bolder now, teasing between Judy’s thighs, kneading her ass with more intent. 

Judy hates how obvious she is, how easily Lorna plays her, but her body responds like a fucking stradivarius. 

Lorna eases her thumb between her cheeks, rubbing with clear intent, and Judy’s moan practically sounds like a sob at this point. 

This time, when she seeks out friction, bucking her hips harder against Lorna’s lap, Lorna doesn’t stop her. In fact, she encourages it. 

“That’s right, naughty girl, grind against me, I can feel your tight little ass squeezing around my finger, I know how badly you want it, let me feel you come again, Judith, make it up to me and be good, now, won’t you?” 

It’s hard and quick this time, a lightning strike, not an avalanche, and Judy’s body stills and she feels herself convulse around Lorna again. 

Lorna withdraws her touch and guides Judy to stand (on shaky legs, now), admiring her handiwork. 

“Oh, well, I don’t suppose you’ll be able to hide what you’ve been up to, will you? You look positively  _ fucked _ .” 

“I— thank you,” Judy supplies, too worn out for much else. 

If this were a date, if she had just fucked someone who had the slightest interest in her as a human being, she would curl up into the covers and fall asleep. 

As it is, Lorna steps out of her skirt and blouse (showing off an enviable body at any age, much less hers, whatever it actually is) and walks towards the ensuite bathroom. 

“Let me clean up the mess you made. See yourself out.” 

Judy listens to the sound of the shower running, puts her clothes back on, prays that she can make it back to the guest house without being apprehended by anyone. 

She does; in the morning Jen looks at her funny when she squirms as she sits on a stool to drink coffee, before quickly offering to take over stove duty so she can stand. 

She only winces a little when Jen gives her ass a playful swat as she heads out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love to my fans!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jen finds out. 
> 
> [Redacted] ensues. 
> 
> (Or, the Jen/Judy endgame we were all waiting for.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congratulations, you did it! now enjoy a surprise!!!!

In the end, Judy’s and Lorna’s is a short affair, a mere flash in the pan in the grand scheme of things. 

Judy sees her three more times over the course of a month, including one particularly memorable occasion where she walks in on Lorna’s gardener fucking her from behind, Lorna holding eye contact with her until he finishes, before blaming her for being early, sending her home, and making her get herself off over FaceTime. 

(She was right on time, and they both have the text receipts to prove it. It doesn’t really matter, though; Judy’s lost her claim to being a good person a long while ago.) 

It doesn’t end with Judy setting firm boundaries, or Lorna growing bored. 

No, Judy fucking sends a text to the wrong person. 

Lorna and Jen both text her simultaneously— _ tell me what you’re going to do for me tomorrow  _ and  **_I’m thinking about ordering delivery. what do you want?_ ** , respectively, and Judy, stupid,  _ stupid  _ Judy sends Lorna’s reply to Jen. 

**Could you take me from behind over your desk while I write the thank you cards from your birthday party? Please?**

As soon as she hits send, she realizes her mistake, and panicked, rushes across the backyard into the living room, where she hopes Jen has abandoned her phone and she can quickly unlock it and delete the text, no one the wiser, bullet dodged. 

But Jen is staring at her phone, eyes wide, and Judy blurts out, closer to a shout than she intends, “That wasn’t meant for you! I answered the wrong text! Can you just delete it and we can pretend it never happened, thankyousomuch.” 

Jen looks up, her previously glassy eyes now cold, cruel in a way that puts her mother-in-law to shame. 

“Yeah, I figured. Unless you wanted to do ‘dinner’ in the home office.” 

Judy laughs nervously, terrified of what Jen’s blank expression means but helpless to stop it. 

“Of course, I don’t have any thank you cards due, not that I ever fuckin’ write them, but Lorna’s birthday was last fuckin’ week so, do you want to explain what. The fuck. Is happening?” 

Judy has seen Jen mad— she’s seen her destroy property, hell, she’s laid hands on Judy before, in their worst moments, but she’s never seen her anger so… contained. She’s clearly furious, Judy can see that, but she’s letting Judy provide an explanation, giving her the rope to hang herself with. 

“It’s not— it’s just sex, and um, obviously it’s over, as of this very moment,” Judy attempts. 

“Just sex? With the mother of the man you killed? Are you fucking serious?” 

“Well, it’s kind of a way to make it up to her, you know? And you fucked Ben! I mean I think the bond between  _ twins _ is right up there with parent and child!”

“No,” Jen steps closer, looming over Judy’s bare feet in her heels. “You don’t get to turn this around on me. Besides, we all liked Ben, he wasn’t the bane of your fucking existence. Jesus  _ fucking _ Christ, I mean it was bad enough when you were fucking Michelle, but this, this is just like, the worst fucking kind of betrayal I’m gonna fucking throw up…” 

Judy doesn’t know why the need to defend herself is so strong, but she can’t help but push back on Jen’s accusations. 

“Well, you know, I think I kind of took some of Lorna’s focus off you for a few weeks there— wait, what was your problem with Michelle? I thought you liked her?” 

“She wasn’t —How the fuck did this even happen? Tell me you didn’t fucking seduce her. Actually, her hitting on you might be worse. Fucking hell, it’s all unbearable.” 

“She—” Judy takes a deep, grounding breath, telling herself that if she gets through this, she and Jen can move forward. After all, nobody’s died. (yet.) “She told me that since you were hopelessly straight, that she could help me… get over you? Kind of? It made more sense in the moment, I promise.” 

Jen just stares, open mouthed, for like five seconds, and Judy is about to check for signs of a stroke when Jen forces her jaw closed and clenches it so hard the vein in her forehead pops out. 

(Judy is very much _ not  _ over her. Fuck.) 

“Why the fuck would Lorna know I’m straight, Judy?” 

It had never previously occurred to Judy that Lorna could’ve been lying— after all, she and Jen talk about pretty much everything and Jen’s never indicated an interest in women. 

“Well, she’s known you a long time, hasn’t she? And she clearly knows how to tell!” 

Jen scoffs. 

“Just because I respected the monogamous nature of my marriage to her son, and i’m not attracted to  _ her _ , doesn’t mean I’m fucking straight, Judy. God, what a fucking narcissist. I’m gonna  _ kill _ her.” 

Judy thinks about all the paintings of Judith and Holofernes that fascinated her on trips to the library as a child, paging through old books on art history. She’d thought maybe she’d be Judith someday (Lorna had certainly attempted to predict as much) but no, no, she’s the painter and  _ Jen  _ is the beautiful widow who makes heads roll. 

Judy honestly can’t tell if Jen means her threat, and it’s not so much that she’s invested in Lorna staying alive as that she really can’t handle hiding a body on top of everything else going on right now, so she tries to talk her down. 

“Jen, it’s okay, she— I made a mistake, and it’s done, and now we can all have a laugh at how wrong Lorna was, right?” 

Jen moves in close, circling Judy’s wrist with her fingers. 

It’s a loose hold; she could wriggle out of it easily, but she feels like her feet are bolted to the floor. 

“Where did she touch you?” 

She looks at Judy like she’s the biggest disappointment in her life. 

Later, Judy will think about the significance of this moment outweighing the betrayal of murder, but for now she just squirms under the intensity of Jen’s gaze. 

“She never—” they had done quite a few things in their short time together, but as Judy’s mouth goes dry, she remembers what was always explicitly off-limits. “We never kissed. It was just hands, no mouths, no… intimacy. And I didn’t touch _ her. _ ” 

She tries to tell Jen with her eyes:  _ I saved the best of me for you, holding out hope, always.  _

“That’s a non-answer, Jude. What, are you  _ embarrassed _ ? If you’re gonna fuck Satan herself, the least you can do is tell me about it.” 

Judy swallows,  _ hard _ , temporarily forgetting how to form words under the intensity of Jen’s scrutiny. 

_ Fuck it, go for broke, Hale.  _

“She fucked my cunt and my ass while I thought about how much I wished you’d walk in and see me and take me for yourself.” 

Jen’s eyes widen at Judy’s boldness, as if she hadn’t expected her to call her bluff, but she just relaxes her grip on Judy’s wrist, moving her hand higher and higher as she takes in the sight before her. 

Jen cups her jaw with her hand, soft but strong, solid in a way Lorna’s hadn't been. She runs her thumb across Judy’s mouth, parting her lips slowly, and Judy resists the urge to respond with her tongue. 

But then, Jen pushes her thumb into her mouth, and instinct takes over. Judy sucks and licks the digit, memorizing the feel of Jen with her tongue. 

Jen observes her with a detached curiosity, but her nostrils flare sharply, and Judy sees the slightest blush of pink at the exposed skin of her neckline. 

Jen steps away, removing her thumb with a “pop,” wiping her hands on her jeans before leaning back on her heels and hooking her thumbs in her pockets. 

(Yeah, Jen’s not straight.) 

“Wait in the guest house. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

She walks out the front door with purpose, leading Judy to wonder what the  _ fuck  _ just happened. 

_

Jen texts Charlie, as she’s marching to her car. 

**Judy’s feeling sick and I’m running out to get some things- order yourself a pizza; card’s on the dining room table. I’ll be back before bedtime.**

Yeah it’s a fuckin’ white lie, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. And honestly, yeah, Judy probably does feel pretty sick right now. 

She fuckin’  _ should.  _

Jen makes a beeline for Lorna’s house, entirely unconcerned with interrupting her. Lorna’s lost the fucking moral highground, for once, and Jen’s gonna let her have it. 

Halfway through her second round of aggressive knocking the door opens, revealing Lorna’s smug fucking face. 

“Jennifer, there’s no need to cause a scene, haven’t you had enough run-ins with law enforcement lately?” 

Her eyes are fucking _ twinkling _ . Jen really might kill the bitch. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking Judy? _ My _ Judy?”

Lorna pulls her inside, disinterested in putting on a show for the neighbors, few and spread-out as they are. 

“She’s a grown woman, Jennifer, it’s not like I  _ coerced  _ her.” 

Jen huffs, trying to slow her inhale enough that she doesn’t have a stroke and leave her boys sad little orphans doomed to be raised by a grandmother who’s even more monstrous than she ever could have thought. 

“You did, though, Lorna, because you told her that I wasn’t interested and would never be. That’s the only reason she ever… did whatever it is you two got up to.” 

Jen grimaces wishing she could wash her own mouth out with soap. 

Lorna sighs, clearly annoyed at the intrusion and not finding any of this near as big a deal as Jen. 

“Okay, so I asserted a point of view that’s now being challenged. But tell me this, Jennifer— would you ever have made a move on sweet little Judith if I hadn’t gotten there first?”

Jen balks. It’s not that she hadn’t  _ thought _ about it before. But fuck, Lorna’s right— the overwhelming rush of her rage has spurred her to a place she probably never would’ve gotten to otherwise, feeling the visceral need to stake such a claim over Judy (which, yeah, is gross and possessive, but also,  _ clearly  _ what Judy is extremely fucking into.) 

“That’s what I thought. So maybe you should be a little more grateful towards me, hmmm?” 

Jen throws up her hands, knowing she’s lost the battle (but possibly won the war). 

“If you ever lay a finger on her again, I’ll fuckin kill you.” 

Lorna rolls her eyes (Jen’s not sure if it’s intentional or a side effect of one of her new recreational pharmaceuticals). 

“She’s all yours. A little on the older side for me, if we’re being honest, and too needy to be becoming. You’ll make a fine pair, I’m sure.” 

Her mouth moves as if smiling but her eyes tell Jen where she can stick it. 

Jen turns to walk away, but Lorna, never one to let the moment pass her by, stops her with a final word. 

“Oh, and Jennifer? I think Judith would absolutely love to be fisted. We never did get around to that, not enough hours in the day.” 

_

Jen’s final stop before returning to Judy is a fucking feminist sex boutique that she mocks every time she and Judy drive past, but that, unfortunately, she knows will have what the moment demands. 

She walks in, all business, but before she can find and purchase her items without fuss, a twenty-something with blue hair and entirely too many facial piercings insists on helping her. 

“Hey there! What are you looking for today? We have a great special on flavored lube and there’s this new suction vibrator that will rock your world,” she winks. 

“I’m good,” Jen looks down for a nametag, nestled amongst sex-positivity pins on the woman’s patchwork denim jacket, “Marissa, just need a harness and a cock. And no, I don’t want your recommendations.” 

“Okay, but do you have a preference between traditional silicone and vixskin—” 

“Marissa. Don’t.” 

Overly-dramatic winged eyes widen at Jen’s tone, and the cashier points silently to a display of accessories. 

She opts for something middle of the road; purple and non-lifelike, big enough to give Judy what she needs (and clearly she’s a  _ bit  _ of a size queen, if the inability to stop fucking Steve was an indication) but not so large that things are too unwieldy for a first-time fuck. 

Marissa checks her out with thankfully little fanfare (though she does insist on dropping a business card and pamphlet with a schedule of upcoming workshops into the recycled-paper bag) and Jen walks back to her car, a woman on a mission. 

Once behind the wheel, she sizes up her purchase, feeling the weight in her hands, thinking of how she’ll use it. 

It’s not entirely unlike the feeling of a gun, cold and solid and dangerous. 

_

Judy can’t stop checking her phone. It’s only been thirty minutes, and she feels like she’s been waiting forever. Whatever happens, Judy just wants it to be over with— Jen throws her out, calls her a filthy pervert, tells her she’ll never see the boys again, even that would be more bearable than the  _ waiting.  _

She busies herself with stupid tidying tasks; changing the sheets on the daybed, dusting the bookshelf, organizing her oil paints by color. 

True to her word, Jen walks through the door two hours after she left, looking angry still, but also confident in a way that makes Judy’s mouth water and her knees weak. 

(Or maybe that’s just the power suit.) 

“Jude.” 

“Yes?”

“I’ve got something for you. Turn away, just a minute more, okay?” 

Judy does as she’s told, crossing her legs at the ankles in an effort to provide some relief to the throbbing between her legs without being too obvious about it. 

She hears the rustle of paper, clothes falling to the ground, straps being adjusted, Jen cursing under her breath in frustration, before Jen’s voice returns to it’s normal volume, albeit sweeter in tone. 

“Alright baby, you can turn back around for me.” 

Jen’s discarded her jacket and pants, standing before Judy wearing nothing but a thin camisole and a thick cock. Judy can see the slightest edge of doubt in Jen’s eyes, but it disappears when Jen observes her reaction to the  _ very  _ welcome addition between her legs. 

Judy takes in the dichotomy of unnatural silicone and the smooth, pale skin of Jen’s thighs, and feels herself sinking to her knees before she can think any better of it. 

Jen walks closer, runs a hand through her hair, fingernails grazing her scalp, soothing and electrifying at once. 

Even beneath Jen’s anger (and lust) there’s an undercurrent of  _ tenderness _ . 

Judy’s not sure if a strap-on blowjob is a traditional expression of love, but for now, it’s all that she can do. 

When her mouth makes contact with the cock, Jen hisses sharply, locking eyes with Judy and nodding. 

“You saved your mouth just for me, didn’t you, Jude?” 

“Mmmhmmm,” Judy answers around the strap-on, bobbing her head enough to drive the base against Jen’s clit, running her hands up and down the backs of Jen’s glorious legs. 

“You look so pretty sucking on my cock, baby. I knew you would.” 

Judy wraps her fingers around the base of the shaft, pumping it and grinding it against Jen while her mouth continues to lick and suck the tip. 

(Sure, Jen can’t feel every single thing she’s doing, but sex is, at its heart, theater, and Judy believes in immersive artistic experiences.) 

“Good looking and with a big dick...you don’t find that every day,” Judy smirks, admiring the way Jen’s strap-on glistens in the soft glow of her himlayan salt lamps. 

“That’s right, you fucking don’t,” Jen scoffs, “think on that the next time psychopaths proposition you.” 

“I’m done with psychopaths,” Judy promises, still stroking Jen idly, watching her hips thrust ever so slightly, wondering what it would feel like for her to thrust inside her. 

Jen gathers her bearings, steps back, narrows her gaze at Judy. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Jude. I think you should take them off.” 

Judy rises to a stand, never one to argue against nudity when the option presents itself. 

She’s grateful for the wrap dress she’s wearing— it makes the whole stripping for the love-of-her-life for the first time thing much less awkward than it could have been. 

(Jen visibly gulps when the fabric pools at her feet, so there’s that, too.) 

Jen raises a single brow in confirmation when Judy reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra, and Judy steps out of her underwear as well, might as well save them both a bit of effort and pretense. 

The thin strap on Jen’s black camisole has fallen off her right shoulder; the dark fabric makes her skin look even paler than usual, but the frame underneath is sinewy and solid.

(Judy knows beyond a doubt she would get her ass kicked in a fight with Jen; she thinks if she plays her cards right she might know what it would be like to lose a wrestling match with her. )

Jen pushes her back towards the day bed, until the back of her legs meets the edge and she sits. 

“You’re probably ready for me already, aren’t you?”

Judy parts her legs in response. 

(Show, don’t tell, that’s like, the first rule of screenwriting.) 

Jen grips her knees, pushes them even further apart, wedges herself in-between and puts a hand between her body and Judy’s, testing her hypothesis. 

“Fuck, you’re wet, Jude.” 

“It’s all for you, Jen. Fuck,” Jen circles her clit, teasing and yet more generous than Lorna had ever been, “even with her all I ever thought about was you.” 

Jen’s eyes flash with jealousy before she controls her face again. 

“Did you think about coming all over my cock, Judy? Because that’s what’s gonna happen now, you know that, right, baby?” 

Judy nods, arching her back and leaning into Jen’s touch. 

Jen guides herself between Judy’s thighs, parting her with her fingers before plunging in, strong and sure. 

Even as wet as she is, there’s still that familiar burn at first, before the stretch quickly becomes pleasant, the sensation of Jen so deep within her suddenly the only thing her mind can process. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Judy?” 

“God, yes, please, it’s the only thing I ever want.” 

Jen slows her thrusts (that were just about to reach the perfect pace, god fucking damnit) and cups Judy’s chin, imploring her to open her closed eyes. 

“Look at me, Jude. Look at me when I fuck you. None of this taking you from behind over the desk bullshit, yeah? This is  _ me _ . Fucking  _ you _ . No one else.” 

“No one else,” Judy whines, wrapping her legs around Jen’s waist, driving her deeper within. 

Jen lets her hands wander now, palming Judy’s breasts, circling a thumb around her nipples before bending her head down to suck one into her mouth. Her tongue is hot and wet and  _ insistent, _ and Judy digs her heels into Jen’s back (silently praying that she doesn’t do anything to invoke a muscle spasm). 

Jen pulls back to look at her again, still mostly meeting her eyes, but Judy also feels utterly  _ objectified _ . 

She loves it, seeing this side of Jen that she’d hungered for, had convinced herself was a figment of her imagination and the culmination of wishful thinking and her own projection. 

“What do you want, Judy?” 

Since she’s already achieved the seemingly impossible (Jen, here, fucking her, like she means it), Judy decides to reach for the stars. 

“I want you to come inside me, Jen.” 

“That’s not like, biologically possible—” Jen starts, taken out of the moment, before Judy wraps her legs around Jen’s waist and twists hard, so that Jen is on her back on the daybed, Judy riding her strap-on as her breasts bounce with every movement. 

(She cups them, for her own benefit as well as Jen’s. Always play to the back of the room.) 

“I love your cock so much, baby. You feel so good inside me, fucking me, mmmm, I don’t ever want you to stop, but I also very much want you to come. Inside. Me.” 

Jen jerks her hips upwards, spurred on by Judy’s words (and probably the tits in her face, but no one has ever accused Judy of being unresourceful), and Judy grinds her own hips down and around in a circle, drawing an orgasm up and out of Jen, biological realism be damned. 

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck fuck fucking fuck, Jesus Christ, Judy, holy shit, what the fuck.” 

Jen’s stream of consciousness burns hot in her ears, but Judy can’t stop now, she’s so close. As Jen reaches the end of her orgasm, her hips still and she stops pumping up into Judy, but Judy’s helpless to the moment, continuing to rock back and forth against Jen, seeking more delicious pressure. 

She reaches down between her legs to rub her clit, and sees Jen’s hands reach out. 

She slows her own movements, prepared to have Jen stop her, but instead, Jen grips her hips, just fucking her deeper and talking her off the edge of the cliff. 

“Oh, Judy, baby, you are so good for me, fuck, I love to watch you take my cock, I love to feel how wet you are for me. Are you ready to come? Can you show me what that looks like, sweetheart? Come all over my cock, baby, show me how much you want it.”

Judy always does what Jen asks; why should now be any different? 

She moans as the orgasm begins, feeling herself gripping the strap-on like a vise. Jen digs her nails into the skin of her thighs as Judy pumps her hips the last few times, before wrapping a hand around the back of Judy’s neck and pulling her in close, fingers in her hair and tongue in her mouth.

That their first kiss should be mid-fuck is well, sort of achingly appropriate, given all the other circumstances surrounding this occasion. Jen moves her tongue in tandem with her hips, thrusting hard and fast before easing off into gentle licks and one last soft, chaste kiss. 

When it’s well and truly over, Judy pushes herself off of Jen’s lap and collapses beside her, whimpering unintentionally at the loss of the feeling of Jen inside her. 

“Oh, god, why did we wait so long to do that?”

“I’m sorry, did you forget you were fucking my mother-in-law?” 

Judy sighs, internally wondering how long she’ll have to apologize for this particular fuck up. (She’s hoping that considering the Ted shit was well and truly buried in under a year, she’ll be luckier this time, but Jen sometimes has a weird sense of proportion when it comes to personal slights.) 

“Can I go down on you until you pass out to make it up to you?” 

“Hmmmm maybe some other time, Jude. I’m fucking tired.” 

Judy nuzzles closer, draping her leg over Jen’s body, never again wanting to be bereft of the feeling of skin on skin like this. 

“Stay?” 

Jen smiles ruefully before kissing Judy’s forehead.

“I promised the boys I’d be back when it was time to go to bed. Told them I had to take care of you because you were sick.”

“Oh, you took care of me, alright,” Judy waggles her eyebrows. 

“Shut up. I hate you.” 

“You love me.” 

“I love you,” Jen concurs, as usual. (And not, at all, as usual.) “You could sleep in my room tonight, though, if you wanted. Maybe, um, take a shower first?”

Judy nods, taking a minute to collect herself as Jen steps out of her harness and back into her pantss, washing her hands and fixing her hair in Judy’s bathroom. 

The house feels perfectly settled when she walks in; as if today is a day unlike any other, as if the world hasn’t shifted entirely under her feet. 

“Are you feeling better, Judy?” Henry asks sincerely when she walks by the doorway of his room, Jen on the bed with him reading a book. 

“A lot better, thanks, Hen. Your mom is a really good nurse, isn’t she?”

He nods solemnly, before returning to the all-important narrative before him. 

Judy allows herself a few moments to luxuriate in the feeling of Jen’s sheets, the smell of her on the pillows, before Jen trods in quietly, turning out the hall-lights behind her. 

“Thanks, for waiting up.” 

“Are we okay?”

Jen shrugs, palms towards the ceiling in supplication. 

“Sure, yeah, Jude, I think we’re probably more okay than we’ve been in a while. I think we found a new way to work through our shit.“

“Mmmmm, yeah,” Judy sighs dreamily, leaning into the feeling of being totally and utterly smitten, “I mean, I knew it would be  _ good _ if it ever happened, but wow, you really came in guns blazing, Harding.” 

Jen’s face falls. 

“Oh god, I’m gonna have to change my last name back, fuck, goddammit, Judy.” 

Judy frowns. 

“You know it was better with you, right? All of it. It was a distraction, with her, Jen. But you— I think you and I could probably fuck until our bodies are too old to move like that. And then, we’d just dirty talk into the afterlife.” 

Jen snorts. 

“Jesus christ, you’re fucking weird. That’s kind of strangely romantic, though.” 

“Thanks,” Judy chuckles. “Hey, quick question— where’d you get the strap-on?” 

Jen rolls her eyes, but Judy doesn’t miss the red on her cheeks. 

“That fucking place I always make fun of when we drive by, I know, irony, ha ha ha.” 

“Aw, I love the staff there. Did Marissa help you? She’s the absolute best. Oooh! They’re having a seminar on erotic massage next weekend, we should totally go.” 

“Judy,” Jen warns, silencing her rambling with a firm kiss. “Don’t ruin a good thing.” 

Judy leans in again, humming against her lips. 

“It’s too good to ruin, baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a trip. 
> 
> thank you all for taking this journey with me <3


End file.
